Together
by sunflvvhores
Summary: Harry Osborn is sent away to a boarding school in England when he turns eleven. There he meets Draco Malfoy and soon they become very close. Chronicles their seven years at school. Rated T for now.


**A/N: Hey guys, this is my first crossover so I don't really know how to go about doing this so feedback would really be appreciated, just PM me or send in a review. If you want to see a specific scene in the story that you feel would flow nicely with the story, PM me or send in a review.**

**Quick Note: ****This story will contain a lot more graphic content starting from their third/fourth year onward so it will remain be marked as Rated T for now but later it will change to Rated M.**

**In the story, Hogwarts is a regular boarding school in London and all the characters from HP will not have magic. However, pervasive themes from the books will be included as an essential part of the story.**

**Enjoy the story :)**  
**-alyeska-breaking**

* * *

Harry sniffled as a cold gust of wind bit at his nose. He pulled his scarf over his mouth and silently stared at the huge grey building looming over him like some state prison.

This was it. He was being sent away for good and even worse, his father didn't even care about him. After all, Norman Osborn was the one who wanted to send him away. Not so that he would have a better education but because he wasn't good enough and Norman couldn't stand having a son who didn't live up to his expectations.

He remembered that day like it just happened yesterday. The memory was pristinely clear, like glass and it cut through his heart like a knife.

_It was late August and school was going to start soon. He had been outside, talking to his best friend, Peter, when one of his father's assisstants called him in. _

_"Sir, your father wants to see you." Harry had found this odd, as Norman never wanted to see his son and Harry had learned to accept that. As he walked to his father's room, he wondered whatever could his father want to see him for._

_He pushed open the glass door and looked around. He'd never been inside his father's room as he had been strictly warned to not enter. The entire room seemed to be made entirely of glass, even the floor. Overhead hung a crystal chandelier, unlit. The bed was a large, ornately carved piece of mahogany with silk covers. He ran his hand over the silk and smiled, enjoying the smooth feel of it. _

_"Ah, Harry, there you are. Come here, son." His father's voice had come out of nowhere and it momentarily starled Harry. He walked over to where his dad was sitting and stood in front of him._

_"I'm assuming you must be wondering why I called you, given that I hardly talk to you," Norman Osborn laughed as he he poured himself a drink. Harry gave him a wry smile and looked down at the floor. _

_"Well, son, lately, I've noticed that you haven't been exactly... reaching your full potential, much less pushing further. And you know that is not the way we Osborns do things. We strive to be better than ourselves and push past the limit. And you haven't been living up to the Osborn name... And, well... I just can't have a failure for a son." _

_Harry looked up, stunned and hurt by what his father said. He didn't understand. He always brought home straight As on his report cards and won first place in the annual science fair each year. He was a lot smarter than everyone in his school. Wasn't that enough for his father?_

_"Dad, I don't-" Harry spoke, trying make sense of what just happened. _

_"I wasn't finished, Harry. So I've decided to send you to a prestigious boarding school in London, where you will stay until you can actually live up to our name and reach your full potential. They take boys starting at eleven to eighteen years, which is perfect, seeing as you just turned eleven... I see so much talent in you, Harry-you just refuse to harness that talent and use it to your advantage, and that's something I'll never understand." Norman Osborn spoke with an air of obvious disappointment and shame._

_Harry's eyes teared up as he struggled to keep his emotions in. "But, Dad-" He started to protest but stopped when his voice threatened to crack. He would not cry in front of his father and show weakness. His father already thought of him as a failure. Harry ran out of the room, stifling his anger until he got outside, where he screamed until his throat was raw. _

"Sir?" A voice interrupted Harry's thoughts and he looked up, startled, at his dad's assistant. Anger surged through him all over again. His dad sent him away and hadn't even seen him off at the airport and sent an assistant in his place.

"Sir, your bags." The assistant asked again for his approval.

"Leave it. I'll get it myself," Harry said coldly and grabbed his bags and walked towards the school gates, where he joined the group of first-years standing there. His father wanted better, he'd get better. Harry would prove his worth and his father wrong as well. He'd be better in the next eight years than his father had ever been in his entire lifetime. He'd prove himself to the entire world.

* * *

The assisant dean lead the boys down the dining hall while she explained how the school worked. Even though he was hardly paying attention, Harry knew how the school worked.

There were four "houses" they were sorted into and would stay with for their time there: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Everyone was sorted into their respective houses according to their qualities and talents. And there were many, many rules that Harry had no intention of following.

Harry didn't know which house he would, or even wanted, to be sorted into. He just hoped he would make a friend quickly to get him through this hell.

A sudden hush throughout the hall disturbed his thoughts of Slytherin and Harry looked up at the front of the Great Hall. At the podium stood the dean of the school. He was an elderly man with half-moon glasses. He smiled warmly at the first-years and spoke in a voice rendered the entire hall silent.

"Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts. This year I hope that you all will learn something much more than you did the year before and use that knowledge to your advantage. But before we dig in to this lavish feast, we must initiate the first-years into their houses." The dean sat down and the entire hall erupted into cheers.

The assistant dean stood up with a rolled up piece of parchment in her hands and the hall was quiet once again. She unrolled the parchment and spoke.

"First up, Gryffindor..." The assisstant prinicpal rolled down the list of names and Harry listened intently for his name but it never came up. He slowly began to lose interest as she went through Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and nearly fell asleep. His name still hadn't come up. He began to wonder if he was even enrolled here at all. He heard Slytherin students being called up but didn't pay attention.

Suddenly, his name was called. "Harry Osborn!" Harry jumped, startled, and made his way to the Slytherin table. He sat down next to a boy with shockingly white blond hair. The boy turned in his direction and started talking to him.

"Aren't you glad you ended up in Slytherin? I sure am. This is the best house in the school. The rest of the lot are duffers, that's why they're sorted into the other houses." Harry looked bewildered and confused for a moment that someone was talking to him and the blond boy laughed. "Sorry, didn't even tell you who I am. Draco Malfoy." He stuck out his hand for a shake.

"Harry Osborn." Harry shook Draco's hand and Draco suddenly laughed. "What?" Harry asked, afraid he'd done something wrong already.

"You're American!" Draco said in delight.

Harry smiled and tugged at the flop of hair coming down over his eyes, a nervous habit he'd always had. "Yeah, I am. Why is that so funny?"

Draco replied,"No, it's not. It's just that we don't get many Americans around here. You're the first one I've actually met." Then he turned around and listened as the dean warned of the restrictions but Harry wasn't listening. He was simply stunned. He had thought the school would be a lot worse but to his surprise, it wasn't. Maybe his dad hadn't made a mistake in sending him here after all. He was in the best house at the school and someone already liked him... he didn't know what to expect next. All he knew for sure was that this place would be better than a faraway place he was forced to call "home".


End file.
